To Be Apart From The Whole
by YumiDoesTheMacarena
Summary: It is when you are held apart from the whole that you can see most clearly.


Just something you may want to know: This isn't AU; it's a blatantly divergent timeline that veers off sometime before Hidan and Kakuzu reach Kumo and take out the Nibi. Everything after that did not happen as in canon, though obviously _some_ aspects remain, such as the Akatsuki members taking part in the war and the Zetsu army existing.

Disclaimer: These characters own me far more than I own them.

Enjoy!

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Sakura slid down into the foxhole, ignoring the dirt kicking up under her heels in favor of hunching down, hands over her head as the explosive tags started going off. She wasn't sure who had set the trap; not which village they were from, not if it was enemy or ally. What she did know was that it had very nearly killed _her_ and hopefully _would_ kill her pursuers. In the meantime, she would take cover (hide) out of sight.

She wasn't the only one who had that idea.

Two gazes locked from less than a meter away, and time seemed to stop as Sakura's mind raced. Before her, also crouched on the ground, also bleeding and injured, was Deidara of the Akatsuki. Chest heaving, blood spilling sluggishly from the wound on his shoulder, clothes torn and Akatsuki cloak nowhere to be seen, she would have mistaken him for just another of the allied ninja if not for the fact that his headband very clearly bore a slashed Stone symbol. And if she hadn't met him before.

He was her enemy, and she should attack him, kill him, immediately. Nevermind that he looked too shocked at her sudden appearance to launch any sort of offense against her; this was a golden opportunity to take out one of the major players on the opposing side of the huge war.

Eyes scanning his hunched form, she realized that he was (by appearances) unarmed. The scope usually on his eye was clutched in his left hand, and his muscles were quaking. The bags of clay at his hips were open and appeared empty. Pale skin drawn tight with fatigue, he was a far cry from the confident, ebullient criminal she had encountered only once or twice before, in Suna and then again at the start of the war. There was nothing in his expression of the immensely powerful shinobi who had captured Gaara; the fear left no room for something as inhumane as that.

No, he, like her, had been stripped down to the bone during this war. Right then, in that instant, he was exactly like her: a frightened teen who had gotten in over his head when he started playing with the big boys and had no way out. The missing-nin may have had a few years on her—she couldn't recall—but he wasn't any older than twenty. And he was every bit as scared as she was. It was only logical what with the remaining tailed beasts running rampant, barely controlled (if at all) by their vessels as they cut swathes through the enemy lines.

The explosions rocked the world above them and Sakura vaguely recalled that he had a singular proclivity for detonative jutsu. It was his specialty, wasn't it? He got some sort of twisted enjoyment from watching bomb go off, according to the reports.

Deidara certainly wasn't enjoying them now. As the string of explosive tags continued to detonate and the world kicked back into gear, the frozen moment in time concluded almost before it had begun. For a split-second Sakura saw her own thoughts echo in wide blue eyes: _enemy, should attack, too strong to leave alone, should press the advantage, take the chance, _really_ should attack..._ In the next breath, however, his head shot up and jerked to the side, shoulders going back as his eyes flashed to the edge of their mutual refuge. Dropping the scope, which she saw was broken, his hands formed a few quick signs.

Just as a blast of fire much too large to have come from a simple tag began to spill over the lip of the foxhole, a solid wall of earth shot up and curved over her head, blocking her from the heat entirely. A hand landed on her arm as the dome sealed above the two shinobi, drawing her closer to the ground as the earth shifted under them. The sounds of battle were muffled now, distant and strange, compared to the close, almost frantic breaths of her companion. Feeling unnaturally calm-perhaps all her shock had been used up upon catching sight of him?-Sakura channeled just enough healing chakra to her hand to create a soft glow and peered at him.

For whatever reason, when Deidara had closed the distance between them it had been to defend her, not to attack. That said a lot about his state of mind and devotion—or lack thereof—to the cause. His eyes were huge, fixed on the earthen enclosure as though he could see through it to whatever was happening above their heads. Then again, he was an ex _Stone_ ninja with capabilities unknown to her (beyond his explosives) so there was nothing to say he _couldn't_ see through the dome he'd conjured.

Several uncomfortable seconds passed while Sakura watched him watch the low ceiling. It was a small space, probably meant for one, and they each practically lay on the ground, feet drawn up close to their bodies. His grip on her arm was painfully tight, palm pressed tight to her flesh, and Sakura belatedly recalled the mouths on his hands, used to knead his chakra into clay. Or something. The other hand was flat to the ground under them, the curved wall of the almost-trench under her shoulder.

He was _really_ close.

Wide, frightened eyes fell to her face when he turned his head, hair the color of—of something _really_ yellow spilling into his face and over his shoulder. (Dandelions, maybe. It had been a long time since she'd seen any flowers.) Sakura's own bangs were pasted to her brow and cheeks with sweat and blood, and she wondered how long he had been hiding, that he was still almost-pristine. Then again, he was an S-ranked shinobi who specialized in long-distance attacks, so maybe it wasn't so strange that he had avoided the messier aspects of confrontation.

His hand pulled away from her arm, fingertips just brushing the slightly raised flesh of her scar from the Nine-tail's attack so long ago. Without thought, her own hand shot out and gripped his wrist, much more carefully but still urgent. His expression flickered with unease before she reached out and laid her glowing hand over his shoulder and started mending the gash. They didn't speak, but his hand closed around her wrist, too, so that they were cleaving to one another.

It had been a long time since Sakura felt so needy. She had _never_ felt so need_ed_.

When she finished her work, just a quick patch-up job to stop the bleeding and keep the injury from getting worse or infected, Deidara turned off his side so his back rested against the wall of the foxhole, right arm draped over his torso to maintain their desperate grip on one another. It meant that he was even nearer to her, but Sakura didn't particularly mind. Overhead, outside of their little shell, more explosions went off, more decimation occurred. The war went on without them, Sakura realized, hand spasming on the surprisingly fine bones of his wrist.

She was only in the way up there. Here, she could do something, if only for one person. For whatever reason, she was doing the same for her, and she soaked in his presence, steady and powerful. He propped one foot up against the side of the dome.

Deidara dropped his head to the earthen wall, eyes closing as his breath began to even out. How they still had fresh air, Sakura wasn't sure, but she could taste the heat and fire on her tongue with every breath. Of course, shinobi semi-regularly hid underground during the course of a battle; there had to be something that allowed them to breathe. Not having even the slightest hint of an Earth affinity, Sakura was frankly clueless on the matter.

The world shook violently and Sakura couldn't help but gasp softly. Blue eyes flashed open, head tipped just barely in her direction. He surveyed her for just a moment before speaking, voice hoarse and jarring. "It won't break, yeah." She blinked at him and he gestured above them with his free hand. "The walls, the jutsu—it won't break. I'm strong enough for this, at least."

She swallowed. "Never said you weren't." How long had it been since she engaged in a spoken conversation, rather than communicating through raw, sharp shouts.

"It was in your eyes."

There wasn't much she could say to that. Instead she somehow ended up shifting closer to him, until her knees were under the arch made by his and her nose was even with his left shoulder. They didn't touch anywhere other than that clinging, unacknowledged hold on each other's wrists. "This is not what I signed up for when I became a ninja," she muttered, and he laughed, sounding startled.

"Me neither, yeah. This is _insane_. I swear, if those Akatsuki bastards—" and there she started, astounded to hear him of all people say that because _he was one_, dammit, and if he hated them too then that was even more confusing than what they were doing already "—weren't all so crazy I would have been out of here before the first blow was exchanged."

"You don't like the Akatsuki?"

His voice left no question as to the sincerity of his words. "I _hate_ them. I was forced into this and even then it wasn't supposed to be like_—__this_."

"...Yeah." With a soft exhalation, Sakura ceased the flow of chakra to her hand, cutting off the light source. Sakura tensed despite being the cause, but Deidara seemed to almost relax. Then again, that did make sense; when dealing with a person who could turn their chakra into a blade without any medium it was only logical to be alert when they had it actively pooled in their hands. It would be a matter of survival, and Sakura was beginning to suspect that Deidara was, if nothing else, a consummate survivor.

"They threatened you into the Akatsuki?" she guessed.

"Yep. Stupid blasted Uchiha."

"Itachi?"

He scoffed, but it was an empty show of aggression. "Who else, yeah?"

"Well, I heard that Sasuke joined up for a while, but that wasn't until well after you joined..."

"Tch. Little bastard." There was a beat. "He was worse than his brother and I didn't think that was possible, yeah. I'm frankly amazed that I didn't just kill him, but Tobi kept stopping me."

Tobi. Madara. Or whoever the hell he really was.

"You spent a lot of time with him?"

"After you killed Master Sasori he was assigned as my partner, so yeah."

Ah. So he did know who she was; he just didn't seem to care. They really were in exactly the same boat; dragged into a battle on a scale above and beyond even exceptional human means. Sakura was no slouch and Deidara himself was one of the most dangerous men alive, but the two of them had been reduced to huddling together in a shell in a hole in the ground on the edge of a battlefield.

Without actually meaning to do so, Sakura found her right hand slipping into his left, fingers slipping between his. To his credit, Deidara did little more than tense and then curl his fingers around hers in an oddly reassuring tangle.

"... The world just had to go to shit when we were the ones alive, didn't it?" he muttered. "Couldn't wait another thirty years, yeah."

A humorless smile curved her lips. "I've wondered that myself. Or: why couldn't it happen before we were born? I don't think I'd mind helping with the recovery, but this in itself is just _awful_."

"It a pain in the ass, you mean."

"Yeah. It's a pain in the ass." His hand tightened around hers and Sakura bowed her head to close a little more of the distance between them. Her brow rested against his shoulder and he didn't seem to mind at all. "I _hate_ this. I'm a medic, not a damned footsoldier. And I may love my friends, but I don't want to follow them to my death. Everything is so fatalistic now."

"I don't believe in fate."

Her response was swift. "Then you're a damned sight better company then Neji."

A second's pause. "Who?"

"Hyuuga Neji, a Jounin I know. He strongly believes in fate and it's pretty much depressing as hell." She blinked and realized that Neji might be dead; she hadn't seen him for days. "Of course, why he's fighting if he thinks things unavoidable is anyone's guess."

"It's better to feel like you're doing something, I suppose," Deidara mused, and they fell silent. The sounds of roaring beasts and pounding feet reached their ears, muted and distant still. If her friends ever found out that she had hid for so long, they may never forgive her. Maybe she should ask Deidara to let her out. Then again, it wasn't like she could do anything of worth during a confrontation between huge monsters. He spoke again. "I have a jutsu that would level this entire battlefield."

"Strong enough to take out the tailed beasts?" she asked doubtfully, and suspected hi nodded from the soft rustle of his head.

"Zero survivors guaranteed, us included, yeah. Should I use it?"

Her jaw dropped. "You're asking me?"

He snorted. "Who else am I going to ask? I don't want to die. I've been willing to die for my art, but what's going on up there," and his left hand, the one laced with hers, jerked upwards, "isn't art. It's not beautiful. It's hideous, and drawn out, and exhausting, and I hate it. I can end it; I have that power. I have all along, but I don't want this ugly battlefield to be the last thing I see."

It took a moment to find words. "_That's_ the only reason you haven't used this jutsu? Nothing about _not ending_ hundreds of innocent lives?"

He was indignant, too. "Hey, don't judge me! None of us here are innocent, yeah."

"Oh my god. You're crazy."

"Yeah."

His casual acceptance made Sakura hesitate, made her realize that they still clutched at one another. Sighing softly, she shifted and settled her head _on_ his shoulder. Ear pressed flat against the worn material of his torn shirt, she could hear the resounding beat of his heart, strong and steady. "Why would you even develop a jutsu that would kill you?"

"...I use _Forbidden Jutsu_. They're called that for a reason, yeah."

"I know that," she mumbled. They fell quiet again for several minutes, and she simply listened to the beat of his head. He spoke so casually of cutting that sound off, not just for himself but for hundreds of others who would have no say in the matter—and he was asking _her_ to make the call. "If you don't want to see the battlefield last, why are you okay with using the jutsu now?"

"It's dark as pitch in here, and we wouldn't have to move for it to work. The last thing I saw was you. _That_, I'm okay with."

Which, she supposed, meant that he thought she was beautiful in Deidara-ese. Or at least not hideous. "You shouldn't," she whispered. "Don't use it."

"Alright. What should I do then?"

"I don't think there's much either of us can do," she whispered, and the truth of the words settled around her. "The one time I dealt with Naruto in his demon form I nearly died from a glancing blow. I don't much fancy going through that again."

"So we wait?"

"Yeah. We wait," she decided. "We wait for it to end. And then we'll wait for everything to be okay again." Suddenly choking up, blinking away tears in the darkness, she swore, "If we win, I'll vouch for you. I'll try to keep you safe."

She sensed more than felt his bewilderment, but after a moment he exhaled. "...Yeah. I'll do the same for you. If we win."

Sakura pressed her face harder to his shoulder and tried very hard not to think about the future.

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This is not really the _cheeriest_ thing in existence to post on Valentine's Day, but it _is_ a story for one of my two favorite pairings, so... yeah. I hope it's been a good one, ya'll! As usual, please feel free to ask for clarification or critique! I kind of just let this slip out of my fingertips and into my computer, so, yeah, I hope it's good!

_Ja na!_


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